


Turn to Gold

by iflywithhedwig



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Sugar Daddy, Bill is a human, Bipper, F/M, Human!Bill, M/M, Older! Dipper Pines, Older! Mabel Pines, Older! Pines Twins, Older!Dipper Pines - Freeform, Older!Mabel Pines, Older!Pines Twins, Pines Twins, So many tags, Sugar Daddy, Sugardaddy, human!bill cipher, sugardaddy!au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-30
Updated: 2014-10-30
Packaged: 2018-02-23 07:11:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2538926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iflywithhedwig/pseuds/iflywithhedwig
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dipper and Mabel finally turn 18, which marks the beginning of the last summer they will ever spend in Gravity Falls. While trying to solve a riddle written by Grunkle Stan, the Pines twins accidentally discover something seemingly impossible--a fourth book in the series. A whole mess of new information comes their way, but Dipper feels like he’s being watched whenever he reads the journal. No matter how hard he tries, he can’t skip through the pages. He is forced to read them one by one and figure the mystery out as it goes, with help from a little friend, of course...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Turn to Gold

**Author's Note:**

> This story mentions early episodes of season 2, where they first meet Bill and he helps Gideon and all that jazz! So, yes, the Twins and friends have met Bill before. I’ll reiterate this fact later on, but I’m just stating it now in case anyone was wondering!  
> Thank you for reading this!!! It means the world to me that even one person took the time! Also a special thanks to my beta readers Britt and Jules (who don't have Ao3 accounts) and Chelsea (alicetteryder on Ao3, check her out, she’s a babe) for making sure all this made sense! (-‘:

“Dipper, don’t be a party pooper!” Mabel shrieked as her twin brother kicked the colorful piñata over onto its side, the candy contents spilling across the floor. Dipper simply crossed his arms and leaned against the wall, blowing his bangs out of his face. He looked at her and shrugged as she scampered over to the mess. Setting the piñata on it’s little paper mache hooves, Mabel scooped the candy up and put it in the open hole on it’s back.

“This is so stupid, Mabel! We already had a graduation party, why would we have another one?” He pushed away from the wall in the hallway and walked into the living room, where Mabel and Wendy had begun hanging up streamers and placing plastic Dollar Store tablecloths on the fold up tables.

“I didn’t get to celebrate with you guys and Soos won’t stop talking about how his “little babies are growing up.” Believe it or not, Stan said something about this before you guys even came back. I think he might’ve even _finally_ given in and bought you a case of beer, Dipper,” Wendy gave him the cheesiest grin, which was enough to make Dipper blush. He fiddled with his bangs, twisting the only curly lock he had around with a finger. He tended to play with his hair when he was nervous or embarrassed. Dipper plopped down onto Stan’s old, rugged armchair that was placed directly in front of the television.

“He’s here! He’s here!” Mabel gasped as she pressed her nose against the glass window, leaving a smudged mark. Grunkle Stan had pulled into the driveway in his old station wagon. She was bouncing on her feet as she rushed to answer the front door. Stan didn’t bother saying hello to her as she pestered him with questions. His hands were full with brown paper bags and his hat rested crookedly on his head.

“Please, Mabel, I need to wrap them,” Stan argued as Mabel peeked inside one of the bags. He swatted her on the back of the head then grabbed a soda from the fridge. He eyed her up and down, before laughing and shaking his head. “Oh, what the hell, go ahead. It’s a waste of money to wrap them anyway.”

Mabel hardly waited for Stan to finish his sentence as she practically dove inside one of the bags. There was three bags on the kitchen table--two for Mabel and one for Dipper. Mabel had already pulled out a set of bright pink coffee mugs with a matching teapot and a neon orange dog harness for Waddles before Dipper managed to drag himself to the table.

“Grunkle Stan, you didn’t have to buy us anything, honestly,” Dipper bit his lip. He knew that Stan was always going through financial issues and receiving anything but hospitality and room and board from him made Dipper visibly uncomfortable. Stan ignored him though, wavering his hand and nodding. Dipper reached his hand into his only bag and pulled out a replica of the journal he had when he was younger. He flipped the pages open and realized the journal was blank.

“It’s for you to write your own findings,” Stan beamed. The book looked handmade. The front was shiny and crisply pressed. The painted “4” on the front was crudely done, but Dipper didn’t care. The page marker was a tassel with a little pompom on the bottom. Dipper smiled at Stan, who simply closed his eyes and breathed a sigh of relief. Mabel was easy to buy gifts for, but Dipper had a certain taste.

Before Dipper could reach into his bag and pull out anything else, Stan interrupted Mabel’s excited personal commentary on the gifts she received and said, “There’s a riddle in the journal on the first page to get you started. The only hint I’m giving you is: It’s not at the Mystery Shack, but it’s about the Mystery Shack.”

Carefully opening the front cover of the book, he saw the little inscription. It was tiny, but not illiterate. Scanning the finely scripted blue ink, Dipper read the riddle out loud:

 

_“Wander far yet always yearn,_

_You shall return to the place you were first born._

_Beware the troubles that lie ahead,_

_Always check over your shoulder instead._

_Not everything you see is going to be believed,_

_Don’t be discouraged and dictate lies that are weaved.”_

 

Dipper looked at Stan for some sort of guidance but he raised his arms in defeat and shook his head, eyes closed. He quietly said, “I can’t help you, it’s not my riddle to solve- it’s yours and Mabel’s.”

The rest of the night went on simply. The party was full of people neither of the twins knew and money they felt uncomfortable accepting, but were forced by Stan to accept anyway. After all the shenanigans (Soos gave them each a little cake his Abuela had made, but squished it in their faces) and cleaning were done with, the little Pines family (and Soos and Wendy) sat around in the living room and watched television. Although there was a mindless show playing that was preoccupying the others, the riddle kept bothering Dipper. He couldn’t help but recite the riddle over and over again in his head. He only needed to read it once for it to be engraved into his mind until he figured it out. The sound of his family and friends around him started to bother him, since he was trying to focus, but he used it to his advantage instead. Their simple laughter and mocking comments about the game show they were all intently watching, helped Dipper take his mind off of the riddle for at least a few hours.

In their room that night, Mabel and Dipper lay on their separate beds, both of them stared at the ceiling, examining the wooden beams of the stuffy attic. “You know Mabel… Maybe this riddle doesn’t even mean anything. Maybe Stan just told us that so we would stay out of his hair this summer, since it’s our last summer here ever.” Dipper said, interrupting the silence.

“Don’t think like that, Dip! You’re always such a Negative Nancy,” Mabel stuck her tongue out, flipping onto her side so she could look at him across the dimly lit space. The moon was illuminating the room, lighting up Mabel’s face for Dipper to see, but keeping his own in the shadows.

“You’re probably right… But it just doesn’t make sense! We weren’t born here, does that mean we have to go home to figure out the riddle? Mom and Dad would not be happy about that.” Dipper frowned slightly, his lips pressed tightly together.

“Listen, Bro-Bro. We weren’t cool adventurers before we came to Gravity Falls! Our cool adventuring was born here. Duh!” Mabel laughed at Dipper’s face of disbelief as she already deciphered one sentence of the riddle.

“Mabel, you’re a genius!” Dipper shot up in bed, swinging his legs around to hang off the side. His comforter slowly shifted to the wooden floor as he reached for Book 4 that was in the drawer of his nightstand.

“Dipper,” Mabel sighed when Dipper turned the brightness of the lamp on his nightstand up. She flipped to face the wall, wiggling under her covers. “Go to sleep, please. I don’t want to hear you up all night whispering to that stupid journal. We can interrogate the piece of paper tomorrow in the AM after pancakes and chocolate milk.”

Dipper huffed something under his breath, but abided to Mabel’s request and put the journal back. Turning off the light, he crawled back into the warmth of his bed and pulled his comforter over him. Mabel dozed off in less than a few minutes, her light snoring echoed around the lofty room, and Dipper shortly followed.

Dipper awoke to Waddles hopping onto his bed and lying at his feet. He shoved the pig off the bed and slowly sat up. He slipped on his glasses, which he realized he needed when he was around 14. He only wore them around the house because he thought they made him look stupid.

Shuffling down the stairs and into the kitchen, Mabel was wide awake and almost finished cooking an entire breakfast feast. It was too early for Stan to be awake yet, but Wendy was already there, dressed in her work uniform and sitting at the kitchen table. Dipper quickly pulled off his glasses and shoved them in the back pocket of his sweatpants, hoping Wendy hadn’t seen them. She looked up from her newspaper and her steaming cup of black coffee. He felt awkward as she eyed him up and down, considering he wasn’t wearing a shirt.

“Sup, constellation-face?” Wendy mused, a smirk appearing on her lips. Dipper quickly fixed his bangs to cover his embarrassing birthmark.

“Nothing, just woke up. Uh… Why are you here so early?” Dipper made a face as he poured himself some coffee. He put too much sugar in it, so he set it next to Mabel, who was probably already on her third cup if he was being honest.

“Mabel invited me for pancakes and chocolate milk, but I’m lactose-intolerant so I’m just here to gorge myself on pancakes.” Wendy laughed and her laugh was contagious. Dipper smiled at her as he sat down next to her at the kitchen table. Mabel served pancakes with maple syrup (that Stan got her “from Canada”, but really it was from the corner store in town). She grabbed the butter from the fridge and plopped down across from Dipper.

“Like always, delicious and yummy,” Mabel patted herself on the back as she stuffed her face with a cut triangular piece of pancake.

After they finished breakfast and Dipper did the dishes, Mabel and Wendy went to work in the gift shop. Mabel was giving tours and Wendy was unloading new merchandise in the back of the store, just like any other day. Dipper was on register, organizing the old products to make room for the new products that just arrived. He flipped through a magazine that was filled with articles written by crazy tourists about strange places. His eyelids grew heavier and heavier as the minutes passed so he pushed the magazine to the side and laid his forehead on the wooden counter. No one was in the shop, so why not take a quick nap?

Suddenly, someone unfamiliar strode through the door of the Mystery Shack. Dipper’s head shot up, worried that it was Stan, who would’ve yelled at him. Except it wasn’t. The man in question was dressed far nicer than anyone in Gravity Falls ever seemed to dress, except for Mabel’s childhood friend Pacifica Northwest, but she had moved away long ago. Dipper simply stared at the posh young man as he stared back, a smile on his face. The man was tall and slender, a white button-down hugging his frame. He had a black eye patch on, very similar to Stan’s fake eye patch, and one brilliant hazel eye. He had a marble cane that had clinked against the wood floors when he first walked in. His pressed dress pants looked slightly too long for him, as if they needed to be hemmed. His shoes were shiny and new, squeaking against the floor. He had strikingly thick, blonde hair that was curling uncontrollably around his lightly tanned skin. A simple, black top hat rested gently on his head to complete his attire.

“Welcome to the Mystery Shack,” Dipper greeted him, wavering his hand. He flipped his magazine closed and shoved it under the counter, folding his hands politely on top.

“Ya, ya, I know what this place is, kid,” the man’s voice sounded familiar to Dipper, but he couldn’t put a finger on it. He walked closer to the counter and began looking at the trinkets and glossy postcards and handmade decorations that sat on top of the checkout.

“Can I help you find anything?” Dipper tried to be as polite as possible, but the way the man spoke to him made him agitated.

“No-o,” he said very exaggeratedly, drawing out the word for a few unnecessary seconds. He didn’t take his eyes off the little sea monster figurines he was examining by rolling it around in his hand. “But, I can help you!”

“With what?” Dipper clenched his jaw. He didn’t know who this man was and he was offering him help? Did this man know him?

“The riddle, dummy!” The man looked up at him after dropping the figurine back into the plastic bin it was in. He walked towards Dipper and placed both elbows on the counter. He rested his chin in his knitted fingers and grinned at the younger male. “I can help you solve the riddle that’s been bugging you, kiddo.”

“How do you know about that riddle? Did Stan send you?” Dipper’s eyes were slits as he pushed the rolling office chair backwards, away from the man’s face. He didn’t trust him and it was obvious.

“Oh, come on, we both know you talk in your sleep!” The man seemed to cackle, his lips curling at the sides. He didn’t move but a small blue-hued letter seemingly popped out of nowhere next to his face. He took a step away from the counter, grabbed the letter from the air, and opened it with a knife he pulled from his coat pocket. Dipper looked on with wide eyes. The man read the letter, mumbling as he did so, and then threw the letter over his shoulder. It floated to the ground and burst into blue flames. The man looked Dipper in the eyes and extended his hand. “Listen, kid, I gotta run. Very important business meeting I gotta attend to, maybe save a couple lives, maybe do a couple errands. Do we have a deal? You scratch my back, I scratch yours. Deal? C’mon!”

Dipper looked at this strange man in disbelief. The man laughed and withdrew his hand, pulling a pocket watch out of his coat pocket. Was that thing bottomless? Dipper opened his mouth, but no words came out. He stared at the floor, feeling the man’s gaze burning into the top of his head.

“Look, I really need to know if you’re serious about this commitment,” the man wrinkled his nose, but smiled. He checked his pocket watch again and gasped. He stepped back from the counter and his feet burst into a bluish flame. “Look at the time! Guess I’ll see you in your next dream, Pine Tree. Think about me!”

Dipper awoke with a start, a small squeak escaping his lips. He pulled his head away from the wooden counter quickly. “That was such a weird dream…” He rubbed his forehead, press marks from his arms leaving red blotches on his skin.

“You okay, Dipper? Was that you who screamed?” Wendy popped her head in from the swinging door in the rear of the shop that had an “Employees Only” sign on it. No one was in the store since Dipper had fallen asleep, which was good. Dipper simply nodded and Wendy raised an eyebrow, but disappeared into the storage room, not asking any other questions.

Mabel returned from giving a tour just a few minutes later. Dipper was viewing his hair in the glare of the idling, black computer screen of the register. Running a hand through his messy brown locks, he looked up at Mabel as she approached the counter. She had been escorting two large families through the tour and she looked peppy as ever. She rested her elbows on the counter with her chin in her hands, just the way the mysterious man in his dream minutes before had, and greeted him with a simple, “Hey, Buttface!”

“Mabel, the weirdest thing happened…” Dipper started, but was interrupted by a customer asking Mabel a question. She flitted away from the counter to show the customer where the item was that they were asking for, but she returned in seconds.

“What were you saying, bro?” Mabel seemed uninterested as she straightened the little decorations that were on the front of the counter (which she had made and hung up).

“Okay, so, I fell asleep—,” Dipper was cut short by another customer, a child this time, who began sputtering a string of questions to Mabel. The kid was pulling on the sleeve of Mabel’s sweater, dragging her across the shop. Dipper grit his teeth, annoyed but unable to do anything but smile as a family approached the counter with many souvenirs and useless objects they were buying. After both families left, Dipper finally had a chance to talk to Mabel alone.

“You have to believe me, Mabel,” Dipper pleaded. He told her about his dream and the way the man was talking to him and how his voice sounded familiar.

“It was probably just a weird dream. Don’t take stuff like that so seriously! Jeez, Dipper, this riddle thing is really consuming your life… Maybe you should take a break? I’m worried about you!” Mabel waggled a finger at her younger twin brother, but she knew he wouldn’t listen. Dipper thought maybe Mabel would’ve helped him, since she already figured out one sentence of the riddle, but he was disappointed that she wasn’t taking him seriously.

“This is serious though,” Dipper said to himself as Mabel began sweeping the floor, getting ready to close up shop early.

That night, Dipper jotted down a few notes in Book 4. He wrote about his dream and about Mabel’s deciphering of one of the parts of the riddle. He wrote about the familiar voice and even the eye of the man. There was something about all of it that seemed like really bad déjà vu and that gave Dipper a chill down his spine.

Mabel was talking in her sleep in the opposing bed. The only thing Dipper heard her mumble was Gideon’s name. Gideon had moved away, just as Pacifica did, when his father got relocated to a new job that made even more money than he was already making. Neither of them had spoken to him since. Why was Mabel having a dream about that little terror?

Dipper smacked himself in the face, a feeling of disbelief washing over him at his sudden realization. He managed to grunt out, “Bill Cipher”, before scribbling fiercely in his journal.


End file.
